There is a saying,
“There, but for the grace of God, go I”. When Sp4 Les Paschall
died on December
21, 1967 it could just as easily have been me. His death was a
waste for he died needlessly as a result of someone’s carelessness and
he was on his second tour too. A few years back I found his sister
and gave her a call and she was very much interested in getting the facts
from someone who was there. That part of his death was laid to rest.
I had been in the 281st just over
a month and we were working Delta out of a very tiny airstrip by a village
south west of Kontum called either Poly Klang or Play Zur Rang ( that's not
the correct spelling but that's what they translate to in English).
The airstrip was pretty much east to west and about as wide as a two-lane
road. All the ships were lined up on the south side of the strip
facing east and our tents were set up at the SE end of the strip.
The fuel dump was in a small dug out area on the north side of the strip.
Because things were so tight, and for safety sake, we were only taking
off and landing to the east.
Once the teams were put in, all
we had to do was wait and that made for some pretty long days. I
found myself bored so I went down to my ship to try to find something interesting
to do. The ship was about 10 or so down and about 4 down from the fuel
area. When I got to it I found several crew chiefs and gunners sitting
around telling stories. I was invited in and took them up on it.
Since the seats were taken I sat on the floor between the two pilot seats.
Paschall was also on the floor, to my right, with his back up against the
side post.
The ship immediately in front of
ours had cranked and was waiting for takeoff clearance. Just prior
to this a gunship from another company, which was engaged in a hot skirmish
and gotten low on fuel landed for fuel, fueled up, and supposedly was told
to take off to
the east. In their haste to get back to
the battle they began a take off to the west instead. There was no
room for that with the ship in front of us cranked and both ships meshed blades.
Pieces of blades flew all over the place. I immediately noticed white
honey comb floating in the air amongst us. Everybody started exiting
the ship to my left. Paschall grabbed my hand and pulled me out then
laid down next to the skid but would not let
go of my hand.
I then looked up and saw that both
ships had come apart and were in pieces just mere feet from me.
I focused my attention on what was left of our ship, the one that had just
run up, and saw that it's transmission had torn lose from it's rear mounts
and was now tilted forward. One blade was shattered but the other
was still somewhat in tact and both were still
turning. I saw the AC get out of his seat but he apparently was in a daze. He started walking
forward and was just about to walk into the still turning blades when, at the very last second,
the crew chief, badly bloodied from
the transmission coming out on top of him, grabbed
the AC and pulled him back pointing at the blades. There is no doubt that the AC’s head would have been
cut off had it not been for that crew chief's quick thinking.
I then noticed that Paschall wasn't letting go of my hand and
looked down at him still lying there next to the skid. I asked him if he was OK and he said
nothing. I noticed he had a very strange look on his face. All
the other guys had run to the downed ships to help. I asked him again
if he was all right and again he said nothing but this time he began to shake a little.
I knew something was wrong so I pried his hand loose and unbuttoned his
shirt. In his side was a hole the size of a quarter that looked like
it went in 6 or 8 inches. There was not a drop of blood in it.
A piece of rotor blade had come through the post he
was leaning against
and had gone clean through him. Special thanks to Will
McCollum for the two pictures of the crashed choppers in that accident.
By this time people were running
around all over the place so I pulled one of them aside and told them about
Paschall and to let the medics know. I then went to the ship behind
ours and cranked it for the medivac to Pleiku. A few minutes later
the crew for that ship took over and flew all the injured to the main hospital at Pleiku. There was no wasted time at all getting
the injured out of there.
Les died about 3 hours later from
a lacerated liver. I believe our pilots and the crew member that the
transmission came out on came back a day or two later. I never heard
of what happened to the pilots that caused the accident. Life can
be taken so quickly, its a shame that Paschall’s had to go in such a senseless
manner. And I was sitting right next to him.
Les is more than just a number, Les was
one of us and we don't forget. Those wishing to visit the "Remembrance"
Memorial site the 281st has established for Les please click
here.
The End